Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Better Not Cry

Sorry Santa, it's not you, it's us.

(In reality, Georgia only had to endure this nightmare for 5-10 seconds, but the way the photos freeze these moments in time, they seem to exaggerate her sense of outrage and make me feel bad about torturing her like this.)

Prior to being forced to sit on Santa's lap, she actually had a pleasant conversation with The Man, which I've recapped below:

Q: What do you want for Christmas?A: Lollipops. Christmas food.(Note: She stole the lollipops answer from Sam. She almost always answers this question with "Christmas food." I swear we are feeding her.)

Q: What about a doll? Would you like a doll?A: My baby is at home. I HAVE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS IN MY ROOM!(Note: Joe actually strung Christmas lights all over Georgia's room, fire hazard that that may be. He was quite pleased that she enjoyed his handiwork enough to report it to Santa.)